


on the wrong side of his bed

by folkinround



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-18
Updated: 2012-10-18
Packaged: 2017-11-16 13:09:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/folkinround/pseuds/folkinround
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-Reichenbach. Jim texts Sebastian in the middle of the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	on the wrong side of his bed

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off an omegle rp with M, so she's got credit as well for being such a wonderful Sebastian, and generally a brilliant person. <3

_If it was my last night alive, what would you want to do?_

The question comes at three in the morning, when Sebastian has been sleeping for less than fifteen minutes, having just come home from a particularly nasty clean up. He thinks _what the fuck_ , now he can’t even sleep because Jim’s asking him deep questions.

 _Well, it isn’t, so don’t ask stupid questions_ , he replies and doesn’t even mind the fact that Jim’s going to nag him for talking to him like that. He’s just more than a little annoyed and tired and really, this isn’t the time for Jim’s fucking power play.

 _I’m just curious_ , he says and Sebastian rolls his eyes at that. _Tell me, Tiger._

 _I don’t know, boss_ , he replies and it’s an honest answer, besides the fact that he just wants to go back to sleep.

It takes Jim a while to respond, and Sebastian almost thinks he’s going to leave him alone, but his phone beeps just as he settles back down under the covers. Sebastian sighs.

_Where are you?_

He wants to ignore this and go back to sleep, but it’s like he can hear Jim’s voice inside his head, nagging him to answer.

He does, says, _In bed, trying to get some sleep_ , and can practically read the smirk on Jim’s lips when he reads the next message, _Come over._

_I’m really tired, boss._

_Just come over, Seb_ , Jim insists and Sebastian doesn’t have it in him to argue anymore. He jumps out of bed, thinks about just dressing back in his work clothes, but opts for a cleaner and more comfortable outfit. He dresses quickly and grabs only his jacket and his phone on the way out, waves at a cab and pretends not to notice the cabbie’s huffs and impatient sighs on the way to Jim’s.

When he arrives, Jim buzzes him in before he can even ring the bell, as if he’d been waiting. Sebastian finds him in the living-room, still in his usual trousers, shirt untucked and no tie. His hair is sticking out in five different directions, as if he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly.

He looks a little distressed, Sebastian thinks, and asks, “Something the matter, boss?”

“Don’t speak,” is Jim’s only response. He points to the couch and turns, starting to pace around the living-room. “Have a seat,” he says, and Sebastian complies. “Have a drink,” Jim says next, and Sebastian pushes back his exhaustion to make room for a bit of worry, despite himself.

He knows Jim, knows how he looks when he’s playing mind games with him, and this isn’t it. He looks exhausted and mysterious, almost vulnerable, and it puzzles Sebastian to see him like that.

He stands back up and walks to where he knows Jim stashes his alcohol, pulls out two glasses and pours the both of them some scotch. It tastes sort of awful, he thinks, but it’s the kind of strong thing Jim wants when he’s particularly weird, so Sebastian goes for it anyway.

“Here, boss,” he says, handing him a glass, and Jim takes it without a word, looks down at the brownish liquid and downs it all in one go.

Sebastian watches him, stiring his own glass absent-mindedly. Jim pours himself another glass of scotch and swallows it down just as quickly.

“I’m not usually one to give you orders, boss,” Sebastian says cautiously, “but I think you should go easy on the scotch.”

He’s not usually this careful around Jim, not anymore, but he knows better than to just go around telling him to do things this or that way when he’s like this. Jim can be a particularly nasty little prick when he feels overpowered.

Jim slowly lifts his head and his gaze meets Sebastian’s for the briefest of moments, just enough to acknowledge that he’s heard him, but he does drink half of the contents of his glass before putting it back. Sebastian puts his own untouched drink down as well and follows Jim out of the sitting-room and into the cold air in the balcony.

He stands with his back to the sniper, gazing towards the horizon, not saying anything, and it sort of drives Sebastian mad, because Jim’s usually talking non-stop in times like this. It makes him even more tired and aware, makes his head start to throb a little.

“Boss,” he tries again, but Jim interrupts him.

“Why _do_ you work for me, Sebastian?” he asks, but it’s not his usual business tone, it’s raw and, Sebastian dares to think, afraid.

He answers before he can even think better, “Because you saved me.”

It’s also a raw and honest answer, something Sebastian would think twice before telling Jim, if they weren’t in such a situation. “And because you’re a good boss. Brilliant mind,” he adds, just for the sake of it, and he does get a tiny smile from Jim at that, even though it’s sad around the edges.

“What else?” Jim asks next, this time turning his head and looking straight into Sebastian’s pale blue eyes with his dark, mysterious ones.

“I don’t know,” Sebastian replies and quickly looks away and doesn’t say anything else. Jim keeps his eyes on him, though, not even blinking, until Sebastian asks, “Is this a staring contest or what?”

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” Jim then asks, and it’s such an honest question that Sebastian feels something twist inside his gut.

He might even have made a face, because the next thing Jim does is look down and give him a quiet laugh.

“What would you do, Tiger,” he tries again, his voice uncharacteristically raw still, “if this was my last night alive?”

“We both know it isn’t,” Sebastian says and tries his best to sound patient and not tired.

“It’s going to happen tomorrow, Seb,” Jim says suddenly and Sebastian really, _really_ does feel way too tired for this.

“It’s going to... what is going to happen tomorrow, Jim?” he asks, giving up any hope of disguising his exhaustion and sounding just almost desperate instead.

“Sherlock Holmes,” says Jim, and it’s like the fire alarm goes off inside Sebastian’s brain.

“What, you’ll finally finish that bastard off? Couldn’t come too soon, boss,” he says with an honest smile. He hates Sherlock Holmes and Jim’s stupid obsession with him, and at this point, after all of the endless sleepless nights of Jim going off the rails trying to think of something to do with him, Sebastian thinks that finally taking him down would be delightful.

The sad smile that spreads across Jim’s mouth is enough to pull him back down, though.

“I might not come back from it alive,” he says, and Sebastian’s eyes widen.

“What... why not, Jim?” he finds himself asking, that stupid sense of fear of Jim doing something stupid washing over him again.

Jim sighs softly, seeming tired now.

“He’ll try everything he can to stop me from doing what I have planned and, as much as I hate to admit that, Tiger, while I’m alive, he has a lot more chances to succeed,” he explains as if Sebastian’s stupid, but Sebastian doesn’t even mind it that much now.

“I could just shoot him, you know,” he argues, “make it look like a suicide.”

“He has to kill himself,” Jim insists.

“We can make it look like it. We did that hundred times, boss,” Sebastian argues again. “It’s so much less effort.”

“He has to do it, Sebastian,” says Jim, sounding final this time. “That’s the only way he won’t win. Anything else is out of the question.”

Sebastian _wants_ to argue further, wants to tell him to forget this damn obsession already and get on with the thousands of other more important things they could be doing, but he doesn’t. Something on that tone reminds him that Jim is and will forever be his boss, and that arguing with him is useless and will only end up sending a bullet through his brain.

“Alright, boss,” he says, then, choosing to admit defeat this one time, just like all the other times, really, and if the smile that returns to Jim’s lips is still small and sad around the edges, Sebastian also pretends not to notice.


End file.
